


Stone Fever

by Rhube



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Porn With Very Little Plot, Sex Magic, Sex Pollen, ancient dwarven sex dungeon, aphrodisiac, arseholes to lovers, brief mentions of past abuse, but I think like some?, dub-con, enchantment!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-10-02 10:58:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhube/pseuds/Rhube
Summary: Whilst exploring a Dwarven ruin on the Wounded Coast Fenris and Anders find themselves separated from the party, trapped in a room, trying to find a way out... and increasingly turned on.The room is enchanted with an aphrodisiac effect. It was once a Dwarven sex dungeon and the enchantment was just meant to heighten the pleasure, but after centuries of disuse it's massively overcharged.Fenris and Anders have it bad. What will happen before they manage to get out?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, uhhhh, I made a prompt on the Kink Meme a while back and a few people liked it, but no one filled it, and I really wanted to write something steamy without all the baggage of a fic that's 60,000 words into angst and... I wanted this fic to exist, so...
> 
> Knowing me this will also rapidly become too long and with way more plot than intended, but ho hum. Full prompt here: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/16884.html?thread=64408820#t64408820
> 
> I've put this as dub-con because of the enchantment, but not non-con as I want both Fenris and Anders to give in willingly in the end. This is a silly sexy fic, not an angsty sexy fic (for now anyway - I could trip and write angst by accident, so).

Anders was absorbed, tracing the designs of an unfamiliar rune, when he heard the groan of ancient cogs behind him, and the heavy stone door slammed shut.

Fenris was standing not far from it, his hand hovering over another rune.

"I barely touched it," he said.

Anders frowned. "Touch it again."

"Mage, I hardly-"

"Well, you clearly touched it enough," Anders said, crossing over to him. "So put your hand back over which ever rune you were caressing, and-"

"I was _caressing_ nothing," Fenris said, but slammed his hand down over the rune anyway.

It did nothing.

He pressed against it again. Then frowned. "I'm sure it was this one."

Anders rolled his eyes. "It was. This is clearly the rune for 'door'. Can't you read?"

The look Fenris shot him was acid. " _No_ , mage, I cannot."

"I - oh. Sorry," Anders sniffed. "But really I think that's all the more reason not to go around touching strange runes."

His fingers brushed against Fenris's for the briefest moment as he reached for the carved stone and Fenris withdrew his hand.

Something in that touch made him shiver, and not with cold.

 _This is what happens when you won't let me visit the Rose, Justice_ , he thought, and felt the spirit's humourless disapproval. Of course he couldn't relieve his sexual tension with anyone at the Rose. They were his patients. He ran a clinic for them once a week. It would be completely inappropriate to-

Anders cleared his throat in an attempt to clear his head. He pressed his own hand on the rune.

Nothing happened.

He could feel that the charge in it was gone.

Crouching down, he scanned the other, non-magical text carved into the stone pillar.

"I think it's on a timer," he said, reluctantly. "We're meant to 'enjoy ourselves', apparently."

"What do you mean, 'enjoy ourselves'?" the elf asked.

Anders glanced up at him. Fenris had such beautiful green eyes. Shame they only ever looked at him with disgust and mistrust. He sighed and stood. "Well, I don't know, exactly. I can't say my Ancient Dwarven is up to scratch, although I know some just because so much of it gets used in enchantment. This means something like 'joy' or 'happiness'." He pointed to one of them. "Although it's got this extra squiggle here that I haven't seen before."

He shrugged. "I think the door will release by itself in a bit, though. Or the rune on the top will build up more charge and we'll be able to use it again. Not sure. Ancient Dwarven. You know."

Fenris looked doubtfully at the runes. "So we're stuck in here?"

"Hmmm." Anders tried to shove down the note of disquiet that rose when Fenris said that. They weren't really stuck. The door would release soon. This wasn't the Deep Roads. It wasn't a cold, dark room in a tower. He wasn't alone. He would be fine.

He forced a smile he wasn't feeling onto his face and looked back at the elf. Fenris was looking about him, the light of Ancient Dwarven technology catching on the taut lines of his slender neck. Maker - if he wasn't such a mage-hating bigot it wouldn't be half bad to be stuck in here like this.

"Why would they set it up like this?" Fenris asked, his voice a rich, rolling vibration that stirred something deep down inside him. Anders looked away to distract himself, taking in more of the room.

There was a variety of strange equipment scattered about. Some of it had rotted away, but enough was metal or stone so that it wasn't all gone. The manacles against one wall had made him suppose it was a dungeon at first but then... what of the strange pile of almost cylindrical objects over here, and... what was it about that rune he'd been examining before the elf had started messing around...

He frowned and walked back to it. It had been almost familiar before, but...

"Oh," he said as the pieces clicked together in his mind. "Ah, hah, uh. I think I know what this room was for."


	2. Chapter 2

"Well?" Fenris looked expectantly at the mage. It was bad enough that he'd been forced to admit that it was his fault they were stuck in here - that he couldn't read - but it seemed he was completely dependent on the abomination to explain their predicament.

"You won't like it," Anders said, his eyes skating over Fenris's body, but avoiding his face.

Irritation warred with a strange kind of thrill at finding himself under the gaze of those amber eyes. Stupid, foolish, teasing eyes that could snap from joking with Varric to passionate critique of anything Fenris said in a moment. A familiar anger built in him. Anders was everything Fenris hated and feared - a mage who had allowed a demon into his body. It didn't matter if there was something about Anders' tall figure that was pleasing to the eye. He was a mage. He was weak. He was dangerous.

And Fenris was stuck in a room with him.

"Just tell me," he said.

"Well," said Anders, turning back to the rune. "I've seen this before. And when I've seen it, it was almost always in brothels... although Lady Elegant does sell a few potions that might as well have this on them. People use it when they want to make 'aphrodisiac' sound exotic." The mage snorted. "I've seen it on potions that boast of 'Ancient Dwarven Arts' - as though dwarves were particularly knowledgeable about potions. There's only a couple of things worth harvesting down there, and neither of them is much help in the bedroom, as far as I'm aware." A slow smile crossed the mage's face, and he looked over to a pile of strange stone objects over to one side.

"There's one other place I've seen it." He picked up one of the objects and threw it at Fenris. "On these."

He caught it reflexively and looked down at the object. It was made of polished stone; a cylindrical tube, maybe two inches in diameter. One end had a kind of lip, then rounded towards the tip... he knew what this was. "Oh!" he exclaimed, dropping the dildo. "Mage, why would you throw that at me?"

Anders was grinning. "To see the look on your face."

Fenris glared.

"Anyway," the mage went on. "It's to do with sex, and it's meant to make sex better, or to make you feel horny or something. I doubt the way they use it in brothels and on over-priced potions has much to do with the original meaning. But, together with the dildos and the other rune that wants us to be happy... I can take an educated guess as to what this room was used for."

Fenris was appalled. It wasn't that he didn't know such places existed. He'd been in several in Tevinter. But somehow he'd gotten the idea that dwarves were above such things. He couldn't imagine Varric in such a place.

"Don't worry, Fenris," The mage said, with a sigh. "The ghosts of horny dwarves past aren't going to harm you. We just have to wait for the door to charge again and we can get out."

Fenris snorted. "I'd rather not wait, if I don't have to." He stalked over to the door. There had to be more than one way to get it open.

***

As Anders watched the elf walk away from him, he felt a little sad. He'd thought making a joke out of their predicament would help the man relax, but although he'd seen Fenris joke about with Varric and Hawke a little, he hit nothing but a wall when _he_ tried.

Of course, nothing the _disgusting mage_ said could ever be funny.

He sighed. Fenris was trying to find an edge to grip on to at the door. With the angle of the elf's hips, his arse was thrust out in just the right way to show the shape of his butt cheek in tight leggings under his armour. Anders found himself biting his lip in appreciation. _Maker_ , the elf was attractive.

Fenris sighed and looked back at him, catching his gaze. "You could at least _try_ to help."

Feeling a little flushed at being caught admiring the elf's buttocks, Anders pulled himself to his feet and crossed over. "I don't know what you expect me to do. It's sealed by enchantment and mechanisms I can't even see. And even if I could, I'm not an engineer. I haven't a clue how this must work."

"You could at least _look_ ," Fenris said, turning back to the door.

Standing this close, Anders was uncomfortably aware of the heat of the elf's body. The flex of his muscles in the gap between his pauldrons and gauntlets where his arm was bare.

 _And the lyrium_. He felt Justice's interest spark as he looked at that. He could see elegant tendrils curling up the elf's neck under his hair. _He's so beautiful_ , Anders thought, and could sense Justice's assent.

Without even realising what he was doing, he raised a hand and brushed some of the fine white hair away from Fenris's neck.

The elf stiffened under his touch, and Anders froze.

What in Andraste's lacy knickers was he doing? He was lucky Fenris hadn't already pulled his heart from his chest.

Anders backed away, quickly. "Ah, I'm sorry - I don't know why, I..."

Fenris turned to look at him, and Anders was relieved to see confusion, rather than the blinding rage he'd expected.

Fenris took a deep breath and looked away. "I feel strange," the elf said. "Do you feel strange?"

"Look, Fenris, I have no idea why I touched you like that, I would never normally..." Fenris glared at him and he shut up.

"So, you're not feeling yourself, then," Fenris said.

"Well, I don't..." Anders frowned, tried to think about Fenris's question. It wasn't that he didn't feel himself. He'd _had thoughts_ about Fenris before. But he never would have acted on them. Even if Fenris's views weren't so objectionable as to completely counter any attraction he'd otherwise have felt, he liked his heart much where it was: safe in his chest. So it wasn't like he'd never felt like this before, but the intensity, the impulse to put his hands on the elf - to run his fingers through his hair, strip him of his armour and see just how beautifully toned he _must be_ under there...

"Uh," he said, looking nervously back at the 'aphrodisiac' rune on the wall. "I think maybe the runes in this room are doing more than wishing us joy of the equipment."

The elf shifted uncomfortably, and Anders suddenly remembered Isabella teasing Fenris, suggesting he might have been more than a body guard. He'd assumed that was just Isabella, but, if it were true... Maybe Fenris had good reason to not want to be locked up in a place like this, even without a horny mage touching him without permission.

"I - I'm going over here," Anders said, retreating to the far corner of the room. "I'm sure the door will open in a bit. Or Hawke will find us. Until then, why don't we just keep to ourselves, OK?"

"Right," Fenris said, almost looking a little deflated. But then he shook himself. "Good. I will keep trying the door."


	3. Chapter 3

Fenris tried to puzzle out his feelings as he watched the mage retreat. The unexpected touch had sent a delicious thrill of sensation through his body. He'd wanted to rock back into it, turn around, grasp the mage by his throat and pull him down into a kiss. The impulse was so strong he could almost feel the heat of skin against his, the rasp of Anders' stubble. He'd never kissed a man with stubble before. Danarius with his beard, yes, and other elven slaves with only a fine dusting of downy hair on their cheeks, but...

Fortunately, he had been too shocked to act on his heated thoughts. And when Anders suggested the room was enchanted... well, of course. Of course magic was here again, haunting him, wanting to put him in the thrall of a mage.

But Anders had turned away, hadn't wanted to take advantage of him. And instead of relief, he had felt... well. It was the magic, wasn't it?

He went back to investigating the door.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much more to see or do. Even the sharpened claws of his gauntlets couldn't find purchase in the narrow gap between stone door and stone wall. There were impressive metal, levered hinges that sunk into a recess and presumably connected to whatever mechanism had closed the door, but he could not reach the mechanism through the hole, and he wouldn't know what to do to it if he could.

He stalked over to the control pillar and touched the 'door' rune again. Nothing. There were countless other runes cut into the pillar, but without knowing what they said, he daren't touch any of them. He felt irritation again that the mage had refused to help, but it melted away. Anders had already looked at the pillar and admitted he couldn't read much there. The mage had made it clear he didn't want to 'enjoy' the room with Fenris, so if he had seen something useful, he surely would have acted to get them out if he could.

Fenris returned to the door, leant his back against the unrelenting stone, and sank to the floor.

They were trapped. He was trapped. In some kind of dwarven sex dungeon. With a mage. With that particular mage.

The possessed mage. The possessed mage with the pretty blond hair. Blond was so rare in Tevinter, and there was a redish tint to Anders' hair that fascinated him. He longed to free it from its tie, watch the strands fall about Anders face, run his fingers through it... Or grip it roughly and use it to tilt the mage's head back. The mage on his knees, looking up at Fenris with those warm amber eyes, begging to be touched, used...

 _Maker_. This was going to be a problem.

***

Anders had experience at occupying his mind when trapped alone in a room he couldn't get out of. He wasn't alone now, of course, but he couldn't let hismelf think of ways to occupy himself with _Fenris_. And whilst he might have found some relief in some of the toys scattered about, he certainly wasn't going to investigate _those_ under the elf's gaze.

So. He was counting. He counted 19 dildos of varying sizes. There were probably more, but there were 19 that he could see without moving. Five sets of manacles still in relatively serviceable condition hanging from the walls. Four more lying on the ground of debatable status. Another two attached to apparatus he couldn't quite fathom the use for. Probably too small for him and Fenris to use anyway, being designed for dwarves.

An image came to mind of bending Fenris over one of them anyway, his bare arse round and taut, as-yet-unseen lyrium tattoos imagined to accentuate the curves of his muscles. Spreading glorious, firm cheeks, and...

No. No. Back to counting. There were three stone benches. One chain dangling from the ceiling that split into three smaller chains with scraps of leather hanging from them. Perhaps it had been some kind of swing? His cock twitched at the idea of pushing Fenris-

 _No._ No more counting sex equipment, then. Tiles in the ceiling. One. Two. Three. Four. (The elf had stood and was walking in his direction.) Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. (He was getting closer, if Anders just looked down he could watch the way he moved, the lines of his body.) Ten. Eleven. Twelve. 

"Mage."

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.

"Mage, look at me."

Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen.

Fenris standing above him, blocking his view.

"Stand up."

"No, I'm fine down here, thanks."

Fenris crouched down beside him, took his chin in gauntletted fingers and turned it to face him. Big sultry eyes under a fringe of white hair. It had been so soft when he'd touched it. 

"Do you find me attractive?"

Oh _Maker_. No beating around the bush here.

"It doesn't matter," he said, pulling his chin free of the elf's hand. "I'm not going to do anything."

"Because you think I wouldn't want it."

His heart leapt in his chest. Surely Fenris couldn't mean that... No. No. It was the room.

"The enchantment," he said, carefully. "Is playing on both out minds."

"I _had_ noticed." _Oh_ , that voice. And, damn him, _especially_ that voice when it was dripping with sarcasm.

Anders took a deep, shaky breath, avoiding looking directly at Fenris and those eyes he could get lost in... "So, it's probably making you think you want it, but when the door opens and the enchantment breaks... well, I like my heart where it is, thank you very much."

Fenris sat down stiffly on the floor, and - huh - apparently stiff was the right word. Anders tried to ignore the noticeable bulge the elf's leggings were completely failing to conceal.

"This room was to play in, correct?" The elf surprised him by asking.

"I would say... yes."

"And it is affecting us equally."

"Well, I can't speak for you, but..." _but there's something in your trousers that says you're pleased to see me_.

"I do not think they would make a play room that would make you want people you weren't attracted to," Fenris surprised him into meeting his eyes. _Oh Maker, those beautiful sea-green eyes._

"Fenris, I think we have only the slightest idea what the people who used this room intended, and in centuries of disuse, who knows how the enchantment might have been warped?" _Maker, he's so close, I could reach out and run my hands over his skin. If only he weren't wearing so much armour._

Fenris tilted his head, considering, then his eyes dipped down, roaming over Anders' body as though he weren't wearing anything at all. Green eyes met his again. "Let me make this simpler," the elf said. "I have always considered you to be an attractive man. You are a fool, and a mage, and an abomination, but in form... you are pleasing to look at."

Anders' eyes widened in surprise, and he felt a little shiver at the (grudging) praise that went straight to his cock. "You say the nicest things."

"So," Fenris went on. "Do you find me attractive, or do you believe the room is causing your desires?"

Anders laughed. "Do _I_ find _you_ attractive?"

Fenris glared. "Yes, mage."

"I doubt there's anyone who's met you who doesn't find you attractive," Anders said. Then added, wanting to show he could give as good as he got. "Even if you are a narrow-minded, mage-hating bigot, I'm not going to deny that you're... pleasing to look at." _Or fucking_ beautiful _, damn him._

Fenris took a deep breath. "Well, then," he said, rich voice breathy and strained. "I do not think the door will open soon. I have no wish to... sit in discomfort... if you are willing." He raised his shapely, dark eyebrows, making a question of the statement.

Was this really happening? Was the broody elf actually propositioning _him_? Looking into those eyes and feeling the thrum of lyrium so close, reminding him of oh, so, much that lay just underneath that armour... how could he refuse? "Maker," he said. "Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to go to the cinema in like five minutes, so this has had no proofreading - apologies! Will look over it later, I promise.
> 
> [Edit: proofreading accomplished.]

The first taste of the mage's lips was overwhelming. Soft, pliant, leaning up into him, letting Fenris know that the man wanted him just as badly.

He groaned, open-mouthed, into the kiss, and Anders pressed forward, his tongue slipping in, sending a delightful throb to Fenris's penis that made him gasp.

As the mage's hand came up to caress his neck, his own wasted no time reaching for the leather straps that bound the mage's coat across his chest. He needed that gone - desperately needed it to go away. There was too much between them. He needed to be able to press skin to skin with Anders _right now_.

He fumbled with the buckle, but it was too difficult with his gauntlets on, so he grasped the edges of the coat, preparing to...

"Hey, hey - no!" The mage said, breaking free of their kiss.

The bottom seemed to fall out of his stomach. The mage didn't want this after all.

Anders brushed Fenris's hands away from him and began working at the buckles himself. "Take those things off. We can play, we can maybe even play rough, but you're _not_ breaking my coat."

Fenris felt giddy with relief. Even laughed. The mage just didn't want his coat damaged. That was fine, he could work with that. True, he had enjoyed the thought of running his claw-tipped gauntlets over Anders' soft skin, but it was hardly a necessity. He began pulling them off, watching as Anders unclothed himself. It was not the most seductive strip-tease he'd ever witnessed, but Danarius had employed some of the finest whores in Tevinter to perform with him from time to time. Nevertheless, there was something to Anders' frantic energy - his eagerness to get unclothed - that was delightful.

The mage caught his eye. "Don't stop there," he said, shrugging off the coat. "I want to see _all_ of you."

He could do that.

His gauntlets tossed aside, Fenris made short work of the buckles of his armour. It had become almost a second skin, and getting into or out of it was second nature. He paused only as Anders removed the stained, grey-white tunic he wore underneath the coat.

It was more than he'd hoped for. He'd known Anders was broad of shoulder, but most mages he'd known had little use for muscle, relying on other things. He should have known to expect more. He'd seen Anders swing his staff in battle, almost like a fighter. _The mage is a Grey Warden_ , he reminded himself. Perhaps there were advantages to that.

His muscles were not as well-defined as Fenris's, but they were toned, accentuated by how little fat the mage carried. Fenris traced a hand down Anders' chest, pausing over a nasty-looking scar, almost over the mage's heart. "Does this hurt?" he asked.

Anders shook his head. "No. I just don't feel much of anything from it, that's all. Come on," he said, looking at the elf from under fine blond lashes. "There must be other parts of me you want to touch."

Fenris tilted his head. There were at that. His cock throbbed in the tight confines of his leggings, the enchanted desire of the room conferring a heady pressure to _get on_ , but he was determined to hold back and draw this out as much as he could. If he could make the mage squirm, so much the better.

Anders was less patient. He tugged at the bottom of Fenris's tunic. "You can have yourself a good stare, if you like, but I get to ogle you, too."

That seemed only fair. Fenris raised his arms and allowed his tunic to be removed.

The entranced look on the mage's face was more than worth it. "Maker, Fenris," he said, eyes tracing up and down Fenris's torso, the smooth, hard lines of his muscles. He allowed himself to smile. He knew he was desirable. He had resented it in the first years of his freedom from Danarius. He knew admiration for his body had been what had prompted the magister to turn him from a simple body guard into something more. But there was nothing possessive in the mage's glance, and he felt... a kind of power in the way he could undo the man just by showing himself.

Anders began to reach towards him, then pulled back.

"Do they hurt?" he asked. "The markings? Can I touch them?"

Fenris nodded. "They hurt all the time, but I am used to it. You may touch, but... do not use magic, it can feel... unpleasant."

A look of pity flashed across Anders' face, but was swiftly supressed. He reached out a tentative hand to caress the firm lines of Fenris's side. He held himself still until he was used to the touch - slightly more sensitive where the mage's fingers passed over the lines of lyrium beneath his skin. But not a bad experience. Not at all. And the mage's look of _fascination_ was captivating in itself.

Anders' left hand joined his right, thumbs brushing briefly over his nipples before sweeping slowly down over his body, the thrilling echo of progressive touches across the lyrium that lined his torso making him feel strummed like a string instrument.

He gasped and leant forward to kiss Anders again, enjoying the security of the mage's hands on his hips. Then he pulled back only slightly, ran the edge of his long nose against Anders' own whilst holding his eyes. "Turn over, I want to take you. Now,"

Anders' eyes widened, and suddenly his hands were pressing against Fenris's chest, pushing him back

"Uh, no, sorry," Anders said, and again Fenris's stomach lurched. "I mean, yes, by all means, take me. But not like that. Maybe later. But... face-to-face, first? If that's OK?"

Fenris shrugged, stilling his face to prevent it from showing his confusion. "As you wish," he said. If the mage was not comfortable with that position, he would not press it. It wasn't like there weren't others. He gave a little tug on Anders trousers. "But you are still entirely too clothed."

Relief in Anders' smile quickly replaced with a kind of naughty joy. "Yes, ser! You, too, ser!"

Fenris snorted and stood to remove his leggings as Anders divested himself, aware again of the mage's eyes raking his form.

They were both standing now, Anders against the wall, entirely nude. It was a position he could work with.

Fenris bent in and ran his nose up the side of the mage's neck, then grasped the man's cock just as he moved to suck on the sensitive place where jaw met neck. Anders groaned and rocked forward into him. For himself, Fenris was pleased to feel the generous size and length of the mage. He ran a finger along the prominent vein underneath and chuckled as the mage squirmed.

"Maker," Anders said, panting. "Did you not say something about taking me?"

"All in good time," Fenris said, although in truth the strain of holding back was getting to him now as well.

He ran his hand back down Anders' cock and worked his way between the man's legs, finding his puckered hole. Anders squirmed. "Mmmm, we need lube. Please don't do this without lube."

Fenris flushed. He should have thought of that, although it was becoming hard to think of anything, really. "Do you have any? If they kept some in here, I strongly suspect it's gone by now."

Anders groaned. "A potion will do. Lyrium or health. There are some on my belt."

Fenris nodded and scooped up a health potion from the pile of clothing on the floor. Uncorking it, he dribbled some on his cock, liberally applying and rubbing it on. Then he dipped his fingers in again, and returned them to Anders' hole.

The first pressed in, and _Maker_ Anders was tight, but he heard the mage slow his breathing and felt him relax a little. He slid the finger in and out a few times, teasing him, loosening some more. Then another slipped in.

Anders cried out.

"Good?" Fenris asked.

"Yes," the mage panted. "Very good. It - uh - it's just been a while. Keep going."

Fenris scissored his fingers inside to gain some stretch, then hooked round and in, seeking the sweet spot that would make...

Anders moaned, his knees sagging a little.

"Good?"

The mage nodded, his eyes closed. "Yes - yes. Keep going."

He pumped his fingers back and forth, enjoying the feeling of the mage squirming about him. Then he drew back, and plunged in a third.

"Oh, Maker," Anders groaned. "I'm ready - please, Fenris, I'm ready. Just get inside me, please."

It was delightful to watch the mage beg, but the urge to rut furiously against him was almost overpowering now.

He withdrew his hand and hooked one of Anders' legs up to give him better access, and then he slid in.

Delicious warm heat surrounding him, and the mage bent against him, pulling his face into his chest, fingers running through his hair, tingling across his scalp.

He pulled back - almost all the way out - and then in again. Anders cried out against him. He had found the right place, the right angle. He could make the mage come completely undone.

Back, and in again.

And then falling into a rhythm, pumping into the mage, feeling the power of having him completely at his mercy and writhing.

"Oh, _fuck_ , Fenris!" Anders shouted.

Fenris grinned. "You are mine, mage," he said, reaching a hand up into his hair and pulling Anders down for a kiss just as he fucked into him hard and to the hilt.

Anders bucked against him, his penis hard and trapped between them. And Fenris felt so completely in control.

He came, hard, and as he rocked back, the mage's cock freed from pressure, Anders came too.

They stood together, clinging to each other, riding out their orgasms, until finally the spasms finished, and Fenris pulled free... still hard as a rock.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, I totally didn't want for this to go to an angsty place. I wanted some nice fun sexy times, but these two...

Anders was so achingly aware of his own persisting hardness that at first he didn't notice that Fenris was still erect too.

Fenris's hand pushing sharply back against him came as a shock. He looked up into wide and terrified eyes.

"Mage, what have you done?" Fenris asked, panic in his voice.

"Nothing, nothing," Anders gasped

"This isn't right," Fenris said, stumbling backwards. "It isn't natural. You did this!"

"Hey, no." Anders took a step towards Fenris, then stopped. There was something both erotic and disturbing in the way his erection hadn't softened at all, was still pulsing hard and insistent . As a Grey Warden, he'd always had an impressive stamina, but this was uncanny. "Fenris, it's not me. It's the room. It's the enchantment. Please." He was trembling now, some combination of the heightened desire and exertion, maybe, but also the creeping disquiet that he was not in control.

Fenris was right to be scared. He was trapped in here and, and something had control of him. Such complete control of him. He couldn't even relax, he...

Anders stepped back and jumped when he hit the wall. He was breathing hard now. He had to stop that. He was panicking, and if he didn't control his breathing it would get worse. Knowing made no difference.

_Anders, what is wrong, where are the Templars?_

He groaned, the last thing he needed was Justice attacking Fenris because he couldn't get himself under control. _Nowhere. Long ago. We've talked about this._

"Mage?" Was that concern in the elf's voice? He might have laughed if he could.

Fenris moved tentatively towards him.

"I - I am sorry," Fenris said. "I was scared, I... forgot, for a moment."

Darkness crowded the edge of his vision and he closed his eyes, focused on his breathing.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and cry out. For a moment he was back in the darkness in the tower, never quite seeing their faces, but knowing their voices. He felt Justice surge forward and had to put all his energy into staying in control.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Fenris said. "Mage, tell me what you need."

Focusing on keeping his breathing shallow and even, he managed to get some words out. "I'm fine. I'm fine really. It's just... it's just that we're trapped. I'm fine if I know... how to get out. We can't get out." He didn't like the note of panic in his voice. Fenris was the one who'd been upset, and now the elf was having to look after him.

"We will," Fenris said with a firmness Anders knew he did not feel. "You said it was on a timer. You said-"

"I know what I said!" Anders snapped. He was starting to get a handle on his breathing now. He could still feel Justice's concern, but also knew that the spirit recognised this as a reaction to a danger that was past, now. Justice was working with him to master this again. "It will," he said. "I know it... it will charge again. I just..." It was so frustrating to not get his thoughts out. "I know it up here," he rested a hand on his head, "but not _here_." He thumped his chest and opened his eyes again.

He was surprised to see a kind of understanding in Fenris's eyes.

"Alright," said the elf. "Let's just... let's try to just sit, for a while." Fenris sank to the floor, a few feet from Anders, giving him space.

Anders followed suit, grimacing as the movement tugged at his still hard and sensitive cock. "Isabela's going to piss herself when she hears about this," he said.

Fenris surprised him by actually smiling. "I imagine she will."

Maker, the elf's cock was still hard too. And somehow, even swollen and reddened as it was, it managed to look beautiful, the silver lines of lyrium making for a delightful contrast. He looked away. "Sorry," he whispered. "I'm trying not to stare."

Fenris snorted. "Mage, you know it is doing the same to me as well." He sighed. "I know this is not your fault. I apologise for accusing you. It... _this_ is too familiar."

Anders nodded. "I'll... I'll try not to touch you again," he said, with a wrench. Even now, the ghost of his panic attack still hovering over him, the urge to touch Fenris - to pull the warrior against him, run his hands over him, sink his cock deep inside...

He took a deep breath and let it out expulsively, leaning his face against his hands.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, mage," Fenris said. "Besides, I didn't say I didn't want you to touch me."

Anders looked up at him appraisingly.

"But we can wait until you are recovered. Or," Fenris added, "I can take care of myself, if you prefer. I have no wish to force you to relive something... uncomfortable."

Anders gave a half smile. "I'll be alright, just give me a minute. It wasn't the sex, it was... the loss of control. I think I just... I just need to know that we're in here together. That I'm not... trapped alone with someone who might kill me."

"No," Fenris said, his expression growing serious. "Mage.... Anders, I will not harm you, I swear it."

Anders smiled tiredly again, ignoring the twitch in his cock as it responded to the rumble of Fenris's voice dropping deep with emphasis. Fenris had called him by his name, wasn't thinking of him as just a mage anymore. It was something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was gonna have had Fenris already having slept with Hawke and thus not having his sex-related panic, but the further into the game you get the better things get for Fenris, mentally, and the worse things get for Anders. And I didn't want him to be in too dark of a place not to want to have fun with this. Sooooo, my way around it was to have Fenris kind of shaken from his freak-out by having to take care of Anders.
> 
> Apologies to those who'd prefer to see Fenris get a little love and be the vulnerable one. They both deserve hugs??


	6. Chapter 6

Fenris moved to sit beside the mage, their legs resting against one another, skin to skin. Slowly, Anders' breathing calmed, and the mage rested his arm on Fenris's leg, hand trailing down the inside of his thigh.

The sensation made his cock twitch, sparking a thrill that washed over his whole body. Sitting cross-legged and exposed, he ached to have that vulnerable space between his legs entered, to have the mage's satisfyingly thick and long cock pressed inside him, filling him up.

The muscles of his arsehole clenched in anticipation.

Anders' light and pleasant laughter broke him out of his anticipatory fantasy. The mage was looking down at his own dick, still so hard and so long. Red with purpose and aching. Long pale fingers stroked lightly up the length and around the tip. Teasing himself.

"It's quite ridiculous, isn't it?" the mage asked. "Look at them." He gestured towards Fenris's own dick, and the need to have Anders' large and gentle hands on his firm and trembling flesh was suddenly overwhelming.

"Mage, are you recovered?" he asked, trying to keep the need out of his voice.

"Mmm?" Anders drew his eyes away from Fenris's cock, and then understanding seemed to reach him. "Are you?"

"Yes," Fenris replied, unable to hold back his desire. _Touch me, please, Maker, touch me_.

Anders reached slowly across their bodies, giving Fenris time to move away.

It was all the elf could do to not grab the hand and pull it directly down against his skin.

When Fenris made no move to stop him, the mage smiled, and long white fingers came to rest on his hot and swollen cock.

Fenris groaned, twisting in Anders' grasp, pleased that the mage's touch followed him, gently preventing him from squirming away.

"These must have been painful," Anders whispered, one finger following the lines of the tattoo on his shaft.

"They were all painful," Fenris said, his voice breathy. The teasing was too much. Fenris took Anders' hand in his and squeezed the fingers firmly around his cock. He cried out at the wonderful, delicious pressure.

Anders got the message and began pumping with rhythmic assurance.

"Is this how you want it?" Anders asked. "I mean, I just wanted to touch your cock, but we can do other things. You could take me again. Your cock is so perfect. Feeling you inside me. And the lyrium..."

Anders trailed off, but Fenris didn't need him to finish the thought. He new what it did to mages to have his lyrium-lined cock pulsing within them. It was one of the reasons Danarius had chosen to extend the markings to somewhere they could offer no obvious benefit to his strength as a warrior.

"No," he said. "I want you inside me, this time. I want you filling me up."

Anders inhaled sharply, then let it out in a long, slow breath, his hand firmly moving up Fenris's cock in time. "I can do that," he said.

The mage withdrew his hand from Fenris's cock and moved to lean over him.

The size of the man was pleasantly arousing. Fenris was tall, for an elf - very tall. It was useful in a fight, but often left him feeling out of place with other members of his race. In the trysts he had performed for Danarius with other slaves, he was always the aggressor, which he'd come to find an uncomfortable role. Of course, his role with Danarius had been one of submission, always, but Anders... Anders was taller and broader than anyone he'd ever lain with, and he'd allowed himself to be taken first.

After all their verbal sparring, in this, the mage was surprisingly gentle. His kiss was sensuous, soft - his tongue skirting over Fenris's lip, and then away. He drew back.

"Lie down," Anders said. "I don't want to do this standing. I want us to take our time."

"Not too much time," Fenris said, as he moved away from the wall so he could stretch out along the floor.

"No," Anders said, running a hand up Fenris's firm and muscular legs, the smile on his face appreciative. "Definitely not."

He leant over Fenris, kissing him again, pulling one of the elf's legs up and to the side to make room for himself.

"I'll prepare you," he whispered, finding the potion Fenris had discarded earlier.

Fenris watched the flex and movement of Anders' muscles as he applied lubricant to himself. The way strands of his now mussed hair hung about his face. He'd need to make sure that hair was thoroughly loose before this was over.

Then Anders was moving his other leg up and to the side, And Fenris felt a well-slicked finger pressing at his arsehole.

There was a moment when he want to pull back. To strike out, to keep an old promise to himself that no mage would ever touch him again.

But no. That promise was already broken, and he had asked for this. Wanted it. As the first digit pressed into him he squirmed and writhed with pleasure.

Anders chuckled. "You like that?"

" _Fasta vass!_ " Fenris exclaimed, "Get on with it."

The urge to get fucking again was growing. A deep and abiding need to touch the mage, run his hands over him, feel his prick buried within him, mash their mouths together, tangle fingers in hair and...

A second finger joined the first and Fenris moaned, raising his hips and pushing further on to them.

Anders laughed again, but it was joyful, not mocking. "Eager, I see."

"How are you not?" Fenris demanded, enchanted desire over-powering now. He grabbed Anders' hand and pushed it further inside him, making them both gasp.

"Alright!" Anders exclaimed. "Alright. No more teasing. But I will make sure you're prepared. I'm quite thick."

"I noticed," Fenris groaned, but released Anders' wrist.

The fingers twitched within him. Scissored. Curled _just_ so -

Pleasure exploded deep inside and his hips bucked again. "Mage!" he gasped.

"We're getting there."

The fingers withdrew just a little, and then he felt a third pressing in. Anders' fingers stretched his ring, moved within him, pumped in and out... grazed that certain hot spot again.

"Ah!" he gasped. "Mage, I do not want to come on your hand. I want to come on your prick. I'm ready, get on with it."

Anders bent over him, withdrew his hand, licked a stripe up his neck as their cocks rubbed maddeningly together, then relented. Pulled back to position himself, and slid in.

The sensation was ecstatic. There was some pain at his entrance, but he didn't care. He was stretched so wide, filled so full. And so deep. Anders pushed slowly, but inevitably, all the way to the hilt.

He paused there, panting, his hand on Fenris's chest.

"Good?" he gasped.

"Yes, yes." Fenris moved his hips and watched Anders' face distort with the sensation.

"Oh, Maker!"

"Move," he said.

"Yes." Anders began to move. Not too fast. He was big, and they could both feel that now - how snugly he was sheathed into Fenris. For all Fenris wanted to grasp his arse and demand to be fucked, he was grateful the mage was taking it slowly.

Well, he could still grab the mage's arse.

He made himself go slow, along with the mage, fingers tracing down pale and freckled skin, gracing round his sides toward his back.

"Ah - no!" Anders stopped still and caught Fenris's arms. "Not my back. Not yet."

"I apologise." He had forgotten. There was something about his back the mage didn't want him to see, or to touch. He should go more carefully.

Anders released his hands. "It's fine. Maybe later. Just... not yet."

"And your arse?" Fenris asked, hoping he hadn't broken the mood too badly.

Anders chuckled, and Fenris could feel the shake of it inside him. "Yes, my arse is fine." He took Fenris's hands and slapped them down on his butt cheeks. "Go to town."

He did. As Anders began to move again, Fenris kneaded the firm, round flesh beneath his fingers, revelling in the feel of muscles shifting as the mage's thick rod ploughed into him.

Anders began to pick up pace, and Fenris lost himself to the sensations inside. So full. And that rhythmic pumping, touching the sensitive spot within him, making him moan and shudder. And pressing further in. Hollowing him out. Anders was becoming a part of him. Like he could swallow the mage up and become one...

And then a hand touched down on his cock and he gasped - opening eyes he hadn't realised he'd closed. The look on Anders' face was intent as he stroked Fenris inside and out. When he saw that Fenris was looking he groaned. "Maker, you have no idea how beautiful you are."

"I've been told," Fenris said.

"No," Anders said, between thrusts. "You haven't. It's not possible... to put into words."

The romance of it surprised him. He knew he was attractive, but... was it the enchantment? Surely they were just rutting...

Thought began to fragment again. Anders was moving faster now, unable to maintain his rhythm on Fenris's cock as the connection inside him became all consuming.

Fenris didn't care. Every movement inside sent a shudder of pleasure through him that was more than enough. He felt Anders' climax coming, the man bending over him, his hips shuddering. And Fenris came too, wrapped up in the amazing sensations.

Afterwards they remained entwined. Anders did not withdraw, even after Fenris had ceased to shudder about him. It was... a pleasant sensation.

Anders lay down against him, his head on his chest.

"Maker," he muttered.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to pull out?" Anders asked.

"You don't find it uncomfortable?" Fenris asked, knowing that Anders must feeling very sensitive.

"No, it's good. To be surrounded by you."

"Mmm," Fenris grunted agreement. It did feel good. When they weren't having sex it had seemed an ache to be so far apart, even when they were touching. This felt... right. To be as close together as they could possibly be. There was a sort of peace to it.

They lay together like that for a time, Anders cock buried deep in Fenris's arse, feeling almost as though they were one being.


	7. Chapter 7

Anders couldn't believe the elf was letting him do this. Just stay inside him, rock hard, occasionally twitching from the over-stimulation.

It was intense, but oh so good. Fenris was so firm and warm all around him. He could feel the elf's pulse on his cock.

His eyes flitted between Fenris's as he lay on top of him. He felt... connected. Not just his flesh inside Fenris's flesh, but as though there were something magnetic pulling between them.

The enchantment was still building, not dissipating.

Anders ran a hand down Fenris's side until he met the place where that beautiful flesh met the warm stone floor. Why did dwarves always like it so warm? His fingers had slipped through a thin sheen of sweat. He could feel it on his skin, too - they were both moist with it. Not that that could entirely be blamed on dwarven geothermal heating.

He bent his head to lick salty sweat from Fenris's neck and chuckled.

Fenris snorted, and he felt a slight tightening on his cock. "What's so funny mage?"

"I don't know," Anders said, shifting back up to look into Fenris's eyes again. "We're both so sweaty." He traced a finger down from the corner where Fenris's jaw met his neck, down across his chest. Something tingled within him at every lyrium line his finger crossed. Something that seemed to vibrate in the air between them and send a shiver through his cock. Justice surged forward with interest. They were so close, so close to the song. He gasped. "I felt that."

"You did?" Fenris asked, and Anders couldn't tell if it was curiosity or discomfort in his voice.

"Was it uncomfortable for you?" he asked.

"No," Fenris whispered. He breathed in and closed his eyes. "No. It - they - it was actually quite enjoyable."

"'Quite'?" Anders arched an eyebrow the elf could not see.

Fenris nodded and smiled, eyes still closed. Then he surprised Anders by rolling his hips, making the mage gasp at the renewed sensation.

"Mmm!" Anders whimpered. And then. "Do that again."

Fenris did, and this time Anders groaned. His cock was pulsing from the shifting of flesh around it, and he could feel the urge to rut into the elf building again.

"Fuck," he said. "I want to fuck you again. Not even withdraw, just..." he slid slowly back, and then in again. "But if you need a break, just say. I'll pull out and-"

"No." Strong hands shot up to grip him by the back of the head. Fenris's eyes were open now and staring at him. "Don't you dare, don't you dare," he murmured, then rolled his hips again.

"Fuck!"

"Yes," the elf said, then deft fingers found the tie in his hair and released it, so it fell about his face.

"It will get in the way," he breathed.

"No," Fenris said, running fingers along his scalp. He'd always loved that, found the sensation intoxicating, but now, everything seemed amplified. He could only gasp and lean into Fenris's hand.

"Is this 'in the way'?" the elf asked.

Panting with ecstacy, Anders shook his head. "No. No. Maker - it's like everything is... more intense... more - ah!"

Fenris rolled his hips again, and he could no longer hold back - plunged in, then out again, but never far enough that he and Fenris parted.

Justice had been overwhelmed by the sensation of Anders' body, but he had not retreated; his fascination with the markings persisted.

"May I - may I...?" he gasped out in between rolls of his hips. "Please, Fenris, let me touch them, let me suck them, let me lick them - I need, _I need_..." He was trying to hold back, to not alarm the elf with what he hated most, but Justice's tones seeped into his voice with their shared _want_.

Fenris's hands stilled on his shoulders. The pressure was light, but the simplicity of Fenris's strength displayed itself as his resistance stopped Anders where he would have rocked forward again. Anders met his eyes. They were serious, wary, but not afraid.

"Anders, are you in control?"

" _Yes_ ," that doubling of voice. He close his eyes, willed himself to the fore, urging patience on Justice. "Yes," he said more firmly. "We just... we both..." His eyes strayed down to the lyrium lines. Maker, he was being too selfish - they both were. This was the last thing Fenris wanted. "I'm sorry."

The grip on Anders' shoulders loosened. Hands slid up into his hair again, fingers sparking shivers down his scalp. "You don't have to be sorry," Fenris said, "As long as you are in control." The hands came to rest on the back of his neck, gave a gentle squeeze. " _You_ are fucking me," he said, and a pressure on his cock as Fenris squeezed down emphasised his point. "I understand the... spirit is with you, but I am not doing this with him."

"I understand," Anders breathed, avoiding the elf's gaze.

Fenris lifted Anders' chin so their eyes met. "Do _you_ want to do those things? Would they give _you_ pleasure?"

"Yes," he said again. "Oh yes."

Hands up in his hair again, then pressing down, pulling his mouth to rest on the elf's neck, his pulse and a line of lyrium pressed against Anders' open lips. "Then _do it_."

Anders sucked, his tongue pressing down on hot flesh, pulsing beneath him, and the line of... uh - pure light, it felt like. A rush like the burst of energy from a potion, but so much more.

His hips were moving again, pumping into Fenris, and the elf was rising up to meet him and his hands were entwined in his hair and - and...

He came, his ascendance to orgasm so swift he hadn't realised he was there until it hit.

Anders cried out, muscles clenched, and then relaxed in blissful release.

"Maker," he murmured. "Maker."

Fenris kissed his forehead, and he came back to himself enough to realise the elf hadn't climaxed.

"I-" he gasped. "I have to pull out. I'm sorry. I had no idea it would hit me like that."

"I did," Fenris said, with surprising calm. "Don't worry."

"I will finish you," Anders said, "But..." but it was too much. Overwhelming. The intensity of the lyrium combining with the post-orgasm sensitivity. He pulled out - coolness and freedom echoing over his flushed and aching cock.

"It's fine," Fenris said as Anders collapsed next to him.

"No, no," Anders panted. "I know it's affecting you, too, it..."

Fenris leaned over him and kissed him - no tongue, just on the corner of his mouth. "Rest a minute," he said. "I imagine that was rather a lot, so soon after you spent yourself before." _And with my cock still buried inside you_. "I'll be fine."

"OK," Anders whispered. Truly, he doubted he could have acted on his offer to Fenris anyway. "OK."

Fenris snorted and lay back down beside him, lacing his fingers between Anders'.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Checkov's dildos...

They lay like that, hands entwined, Anders panting as he recovered from an overload of sexual and mental stimulation. Fenris tried to be patient. He knew sucking on his tattoos could bring a mage to completion quicker and induce a lyrium high, and it was obvious the influence of the room's enchantment had given the effect a new intensity. But his own erection ached for attention.

And more than that, he felt an urgency to be with Anders. Closer to him. And pressing palm to palm was not enough. Fenris needed to be inside the mage, or to surround him. Together.

One.

He squeezed down on the hand in his possession.

"Mage," he said, his voice rough. "Are you recovered?"

Anders groaned beside him. "Not - not yet," he panted. "I want to, but... Maker, Fenris, you're like the stars... like staring into the sun. I... you could swallow me whole..."

The thought was appealing.

Visions of taking Anders' long, thick cock in his mouth - as deep as he could go - holding the other man in his throat as his mouth stretched wide - playing with the soft skin of his balls - reaching a finger up and inside him...

He pulled up onto his side and ran his free hand through the film of sweat that glistened on Anders' firm stomach. "Just a taste..." he whispered. "Please..."

Anders made a pained noise and pulled himself to sitting, then standing, his cock bobbing just above Fenris's head, his fingers pulling free from Fenris's grasp.

"No," Fenris whispered. "No, don't!" He reached after Anders as he stumbled away.

"I'll be back, I just... Just need something to take care of you."

Anders didn't seem to be aware that he had turned his naked back on Fenris as he crossed the room.

It was riddled with scars. Some angry, red, twisted into uncomfortable ridges and hollows. Others silvery-white where tissue had stretched uncomfortably to cross a wound improperly closed. No one had healed these wounds - Fenris could tell just from looking. Some had been allowed to fester. Anders must have been prevented from healing them himself, Fenris realised.

 _Or he was too young when it happened to know how_.

For a moment, shock cooled his desire. He'd suspected some kind of marking, of course, just from the mage's manner, but there was a level of cruelty and ugliness written in these lines that went beyond his imagination.

Then Anders was turning back to face him, grinning and waving something in his hand. A flash of magic washed over the item. Then the mage's eyes met his, and Anders' face fell.

"Sorry," he said. "No magic. I forgot. I just wanted to clean it. Are you OK?"

Fenris schooled his features. Anders, still caught in a mixture of lyrium-induced ecstasy and desire, seemed unaware of what he had revealed, and it would be cruel to plunge him into what were clearly difficult memories in this moment. "I'm fine," Fenris said. "It's fine. What are you doing with that?"

The smile returned to Anders' face. "Taking care of you," he said, crossing the short space between them. "I can't fuck you again right now, I'm sorry," he said, then collapsed down beside Fenris. "And I thought about sucking you off, but then... I remembered..." a finger lazily traced the underside of Fenris's cock, along the sensitive vein... and the lines of the lyrium tattoo.

Fenris gasped and lay back, helpless under the caress. " _Fasta vass!_ " he swore.

"Yeah," Anders said, removing his hand. "I don't think I should be sucking on that right now. But there are other things we can do." He bent down and gently urged Fenris's legs open, kissing the inside of his thigh. "You'll still be nice and loose," he breathed.

A skilled hand cupped and lifted his balls, soft lips kissed the slit at the head of his cock.

Fenris whimpered.

His legs were spread wider, and something cool and hard pressed at his entrance.

"Do you want this?" Anders breathed, the movement of air against Fenris's hot skin enough to make him shudder.

"Yes," he moaned. "Please - please..."

The hard stone intrusion pressed in. It was strange and foreign after Anders' cock, which had felt so right, but it was also thick and firm and the mage with his hand under Fenris's arse was in control of everything. The angle perfect as the fat head slid in and pressed against the sensitive place inside.

" _Vhenhedis!_ "

The dildo slid home, deep within him, only the end sticking out for Anders to grip and move.

The mage let go.

"No!" Fenris gasped.

"It's OK," Anders breathed. "I'm just shifting position... so I can do this."

A slight twitch on the firm length inside him let him know that Anders controlled it again. And at the same time warm fingers caressed his length.

"Ah!" he gasped.

"I have you," Anders whispered, bending down to kiss the tip of his prick again.

He couldn't stop his hips from bucking, earning a chuckle from the mage as the end of his cock slapped against the man's cheek.

He took a firmer grip on Fenris's cock and began to rub up and down the length, just as the hand between his legs moved the object thrust inside.

Yes, this was good. Anders was stroking him inside and out. Suffusing him with attention, rubbing his most sacred inner spaces, making him writhe and moan, the pace increasing, the pressure on that oh-so-good place inside building a tension that the skilled hand on his cock seemed to pull from the other side.

He was drawn taught between those two points until it felt like that was all that existed - those places where Anders touched and manipulated him - until finally the tension could hold no more, and the dam broke. He came in great rivulets that splattered against the mage's chest, prompting Anders to breathless laughter.

And then the rock hard rod inside him pulled out, and the mage bent forward over him, and they kissed.

Soft, amazing, comforting lips. No tongue. Tongue would be too much right now as he soared still on the waves of his orgasm. And Anders laid down beside him again.

"Good?" he whispered, kissing Fenris's ear through his hair.

"Yes," Fenris said. "Very good."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door finally opens again, and Hawke and Isabela must deal with what they find inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No sex this chapter - I KNOW O_O - quite a bit of groping, though.
> 
> We're moving out of the porn-without-plot phase and into the just-a-little-bit-of-plot phase. What can I say? There's only so much Pure Porn a girl can write. They had to get out of the room eventually, and hopefully dealing with the aftermath will be fun, too.

Hawke had almost given up hope of opening the great stone door that imprisoned his friends.

They had tried for what felt like hours. Isabela couldn't even find a hole at which to apply her picks. Hawke had spent all his mana five times over trying new spell combinations against the door. Freezing it, then blasting it with force magic. All the elements one after another. Nothing had worked.

They'd run their hands over the runes near the door several times. Hawke could sense the enchantment, but it had felt... muffled. It had not responded to his touch.

Then, after they had slumped to the ground to share rations, and were debating whether it was too dangerous for either of them to leave alone and get help, the door had swung open.

It did so silently with all the ease of a leaf in the the breeze, just as though it were not several tonnes of granite.

Hawke scrabbled to his feet, hearing Isabela do the same behind him, and gazed on a very strange scene.

Fenris lay atop a human form that could only be Anders, both of them utterly naked.

The white haired elf was murmuring something and stroking brown fingers down the pale, freckled flesh of Anders' arm. Their feet were to the door, and neither looked up, or seemed at all aware that it had opened.

" _Fuck_ ," Isabela said.

"Maybe we should... I think we should give them some privacy, I-"

Isabela had started to protest when Fenris looked up, over his shoulder at them. "No, don't!" Fenris said, a note of panic in his voice. "Don't close the door!"

The rippling of muscles under skin glistening with sweat, was hard to ignore. Hawke forced himself to focus on the elf's face.

Anders' hand reached up for Fenris's neck and tried to pull him back down. Fascinated, Hawke watched as the elf took a deep breath, then firmly removed the hand, pressing Anders' arm down on the floor beside him.

"We have to get out, Anders," he said, in a strangely tender tone.

Then the elf was staggering to his feet whilst the prone mage made petulant moaning noises.

Hawke worked very hard not to look down at the prominent erection he could see jutting out from Fenris's firm and slender body.

" _Help_ me," Fenris hissed, pulling at Anders, trying to get him to stand, too. "The room is enchanted. We have to get out."

"Enchanted?" Hawke said, Fenris's words finally seeping through the shock of seeing his two least compatible companions lying naked together on the floor.

"Yes," Fenris said. "We need. To. Get out."

Anders had stood now and pulled Fenris against him. He seemed to be... smelling the elf's hair. Fenris melted into his embrace, the urgency to move going out of him. But only for a second. With a groan that spoke of regret, he turned in Anders' grasp and pushed him to arm's length.

"Anders, focus," Fenris said.

"I... I can't," he tried to step forward, and seemed almost surprised when Fenris's hand on his chest held him back. "I think I'm recovered enough, I can go again. I need to go again."

Swearing, Fenris turned away, grabbed Anders' hand, and began dragging him from the room. "Get out," Fenris said to them, "before it affects you, too."

"You - you're naked," Hawke said dumbly. "Where are your clothes? Don't you need your sword?"

"Over here, Hawke," Isabela said, crossing toward the far corner of the room, where Hawke could now see a collection of familiar-looking clothes and armour.

Hawke spared a quick glance for his other friends, who were now safely outside the room, and then followed suit. He felt rather uncomfortably as though that heavy stone door might close behind them at any moment.

Anders' clothes were easy enough to grab, but Fenris's armour was a puzzle of pieces, and Hawke was relieved to find that Isabela had already begun grabbing them in an efficient order by the time he got there. Soon they were dashing across a space full of strange equipment he was trying not to think about... and then finally out the door.

Where they found Fenris holding Anders against the wall, one hand pulling the mage's head down into a passionate kiss, the other cupping his balls and rubbing his cock.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Hawke said, dropping his armful of coat, staff, and boots, and shoving the two men apart.

"No," Anders moaned, reaching past him for Fenris, his hard cock pressing uncomfortably into Hawke's side.

Isabela stepped in and took a firm hold of Fenris, who was reaching back. "Come on, lover," she said. "Much as I enjoy the sight of the two of you rubbing up against one another, you just told us you don't want this. You're under an enchantment."

"Enchantment," Fenris said, his voice husky with need. "Yes. But I do want this, I do. We're outside the room now, we're safe."

"Not just yet, I think," said Hawke, and then jumped when he felt the slight pressure of Anders' teeth on his neck. "Hey, no - stop it!" he said, pushing Anders away. "Get dressed, both of you. No one is doing _anything_ until _everyone_ is fully clothed, OK?"

Anders' eyes flicked away from his, over his shoulder. "Fenris," he breathed. "Please."

Fenris groaned, then said: "Get dressed, Anders. We - we should get outside the ruin."

"No," Anders breathed. "No, please."

"I promise, I promise," Fenris said, "later."

And then, to Hawke's surprise, he could hear the sound of Fenris dressing behind him.

Anders seemed to struggle more with the idea. When Hawke let go of him to reach of his clothes, the mage immediately moved round him and was reaching for Fenris again.

Isabela stepped in an pushed him back. "I don't think we're going to get him fully clothed, Hawke. Get his coat on an make him carry the rest. It'll give him something to do with his hands."

Just the coat proved difficult enough. Anders allowed Hawke to get one sleeve on him, but then used his free hand to pull the other mage close, his naked chest and firm erection pressed into Hawke.

"Hey, no!" Hawke said, pulling free. Stuffing Anders' other arm down its armhole then became a perfunctory business. He didn't bother with the rest.

Once Fenris was dressed, they allowed the two men to walk together, which seemed to relax them considerably, enough that they could be persuaded to walk forward in the direction of the surface, anyway. With a little prompting. Anders could not be said to be watching where he was going, but Fenris, an arm around the other man's waist, was able to guide him in the right direction.

"He's got it worse than you, huh?" Isabela asked.

Fenris sniffed, reaching an arm up to stroke Anders' hair. "It's not just the enchantment. The lyrium in my body can... affect mages, in close contact."

Isabela raised an eyebrow. "Is that what we're calling it these days?"

Fenris merely rolled his eyes and kept walking.

Hawke had wanted to get them as far away from the dwarven ruins as possible, but Anders proved still very much enthralled with touching Fenris, being with Fenris, smelling Fenris, kissing Fenris. If pulled away he seemed to transfer his physical attentions readily enough to whoever was handling him, but if he could get back in touch with Fenris, he would do so. Once they were outside in the open air, even Fenris found it difficult to persuade him of the need to keep moving.

"Maker," Isabela muttered, watching as a rest break deteriorated into yet another groping session. "What was _in_ that place?"

"Aphrosa," Anders surprised them by muttering, before pressing his lips again to Fenris's ear - an attention that seemed to complete overwhelm the elf.

Hawke was trying to ignore the fact that Fenris's hand had now snaked under Anders' robes and was stroking the inside of his thigh. It could have been stroking something worse, he supposed. The achingly hard erection both men had sported when they first exited the room had subsided a little, though neither was entirely limp.

"What's that, Anders?" he said, hoping to bring more of the mage's reflective capacities to the surface again.

"Aphrosa," he sighed. "I think it would have been the Ancient Dwarven word for the rune. Means something like 'aphrodisiac', but we can't know for sure."

"Anders thinks..." Fenris piped up, his hand now roaming Anders' chest. Neither of them were looking at Hawke, engrossed as they were in each other. "Anders thinks that room had a... specific purpose," Fenris concluded.

The mage laughed. "It had a lot of very... specific equipment. But I don't think the enchantment can have been intended to be this intense." He bent in and began kissing Fenris's neck, which made the elf moan. When he reached his chin, Anders pulled back. "Maker knows how long since it was last used. I think... I think it might have been building all that time." He kissed Fenris on the mouth, and the pair were lost to intelligible conversation again.

Hawke exchanged a glance with Isabela. "Do you think we should pull them apart?" he said in hushed tones. "I don't know that either of them are in a position to consent. You _know_ they wouldn't want this otherwise."

Isabela shurgged. "You might be surprised. I've always thought there was room for some really intense hate-sex there."

"Isabela!"

She rolled her eyes and gave a wan smile. "I'm only half joking. But either way, I think that boat has sailed. Do you honestly think we can keep them apart all night if they don't want to be?"

"We could tie them up," Hawke suggested.

"Anders? Maybe," Isabela replied. "Fenris would just phase right through the rope. I'm also not entirely sure keeping them apart is what's best for them. They seem... pretty distressed by it."

Hawke sighed and crossed over to the pair. "Fenris," he said, crouching down. "Can we talk, just for a minute?"

Fenris pulled back from Anders' kiss and reluctantly met Hawke's eyes.

"If we set up a tent for the two of you, can you promise me you won't have sex?"

Anders snorted. "Hawke, we have already had sex. Quite a few times."

Hawke felt the colour rise in his cheeks. "OK, but do you think you can manage not to again, at least until the enchantment has worn off?"

Fenris appeared thoughtful, and when Anders tried to lean in to kiss him again, he pushed back.

"It is a lot less than it was," Fenris said. "It probably doesn't seem that way from the outside, but it was getting... it was very intense, before you came in." He closed his eyes, then nodded. "I will make sure nothing happens."

Anders groaned into Fenris's neck. "No, please," he said. "I need you so badly."

Fenris looked down at Anders, considering, then laid a comforting hand on his neck. "Then you shall have me. But not tonight." He kissed the mage's forehead, then looked back to Hawke and nodded. "You have my word."


	10. Chapter 10

Anders woke to find himself wrapped in the muscular arms of a sleeping elf, their legs entwined. Their morning wood resting against one another.  
  
His dreams had been... active, in that regard. But though part of him ached to wake Fenris and plunge deeply into his tight, warm hole, there was something nice about being able to just lie there next to him.  
  
The elf was beautiful. Gazing at him in his sleep was... a revelation. His brow smoothed, he looked younger. Ageless. Anders had always assumed there was no great difference between their ages, but now he wondered.  
  
Impossible to know. Even Fenris didn't know when he was born, and Anders had no idea how long Fenris had been a slave before escaping.  
  
He looked... fragile, in the muted morning light seeping through the tent wall. Fenris could kill him fifty times over even without the powers granted by his tattoos, but...  
  
His reflections were interrupted by the elf shifting in his arms. The motion rubbed Fenris's erection against his softening cock, and he gasped.  
  
Green eyes blinked open under fluttering dark eyelashes.  
  
"Good morning," he said, smiling, then eased back away from Fenris to give him some room.

The elf's arms tightened slightly against him, drew him back. Firm lips kissed his - gentle, languorous, close-mouthed.

"Good morning," Fenris said when the kiss broke.

Anders stroked Fenris's cheek. "Maker, all I want to do is make slow and thorough love to you," he whispered. "But... I think we should talk."

Fenris sighed, but nodded. "You still feel it on you?" he asked.

"Yes," Anders said. "It's not as urgent, and I think the lyrium high has melted away, but I could very easily spend the whole day right here, exploring you."

Fenris's hand found its way to Anders' neck, laid against him, skin to skin. It was... comforting. "I feel the same."

Anders allowed himself a tentative smile. "Do you?"

Another lazy nod. "I feel... utterly drained, but I want to be with you. Touching you. 'Exploring' you. Yes."

"But you don't mind if we talk first?" he said. "There are some things I'd... I'd like to check."

Fenris smiled, and there was such ease and gentleness in the expression that Anders felt as though he were being let in on some secret. "I don't mind."

Anders took a deeper breath and leaned up on his elbow. He didn't want to break this mood, but it was better to talk now than to press on regardless. "Yesterday you said - you said you knew what it would do to me. Sucking on your tattoos like that."

Fenris nodded. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you. I wasn't... I wasn't really thinking."

"No, I..." Anders laughed. "I can't say I minded, but... you've had mages do that before."

Fenris withdrew his hand, frowning. "I don't see..."

Anders looked down, away from green eyes that were shifting from sleepy pleasure towards irritation. "I'm not - I'm not trying to pry. I just, I need to know. Is that... is that something he did to you?"

"That's something you need to know, is it?" Definitely irritated now.

"Fenris, I-" Anders swallowed. "I know you weren't yourself, yesterday. You're still not. I'm not either. If he used you like that-" _if he raped you,_ "-and I - if I've been doing the same thing, and you felt like you couldn't say no, I... just tell me. We - we don't have to do anything else. I - I should never have asked to do that." The memory of his desire to throw himself into all that lyrium, to use Fenris and the brands he'd been cursed with for his own pleasure - it killed whatever was left of the stiffness he'd awoken with.

Fenris said nothing for a good while. "Anders, I propositioned you."

Anders closed his eyes. "I know, but-"

"You asked if you could draw on the lyrium in my skin, and I told you that you could."

"Fenris," he said, his throat growing tight. "We both know the word 'yes' means nothing if you feel like you can't say 'no'. In that room-"

"I meant it," the elf said, quickly. "I wanted to fuck you and... and it made me feel powerful to watch you come undone like that. I wanted to feel that my body could give me power over a mage. I wanted to replace those memories with something else."

Anders let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "You're sure?"

"Yes, mage." Fenris's hand came to rest again on his neck, and Anders forced himself to meet those eyes. "I wanted it. I meant it."

Anders gave a tentative smile. "It was quite a rush."

Fenris smiled back, but then frowned. "There... is something I should tell you, also."

"Yes?" _Here it comes,_ his traitor brain whispered. _He didn't mean it. You did hurt him, you disgusting pervert, you rapist, you_ \- he could feel Justice stirring to object to this line of thought, but then Fenris went on.

"You... did not wish me to see your back," Fenris said, surprising him.

"What?" The change in tack flustered him. "Well, I... it's not that I-" Anders began. "I don't mind, most of the time, but with everything that was going on - all those _emotions_ \- I wasn't sure. It was just-" He was babbling. He hadn't been expecting to talk about this.

Fenris interrupted him. "You showed it to me," he said. "I don't think you realised, but when you went to get the - the toy. You turned your back to me."

Oh. Shame rose up in him. "Sorry," he said. And then he remembered - the look on Fenris's face when he'd turned back, holding the dildo. Horror. Sickness. It hadn't been about the magic he'd used at all. "Sorry," he said again. "I'm sure that's the last thing you wanted to see. Must have put you right off. No wonder you-"

"Mage," Fenris said, quietly, his fingers rubbing circles on Anders' neck. "You don't have to apologise for that either. I just thought you should know. You made it clear you didn't want me to see, and I did. I didn't want to lie to you about it."

Anders swallowed. Told himself that the feeling of the warped and twisted skin of his back crawling was an illusion. He cleared his throat. "I just... it's fine, really. I know it's just skin. It's just easier if... if I can control..."

"I'm sorry that was taken from you," Fenris said.

Anders shrugged, then took a deep breath and let it out again. "Well, that killed the mood a bit, didn't it?" He suppressed the impulse to apologise again.

"Are you alright?" Fenris asked.

No. He was a broken, pathetic thing -

Justice squashed that line of thought. What the Templars had done to his back was not his fault. The spirit's familiar, righteous ire was soothing. He took another deep breath, and met Fenris's eyes again.

Sympathy, not disgust. Understanding, not pity.

"I'll be fine," he said, and used the moment as an excuse to run an appreciative hand down Fenris's fine, well-toned side. "Probably about time for breakfast anyway, isn't it?"

Fenris smiled. "It you say so." The barest hint of a raised eyebrow suggested another kind of hunger they could sate, but Anders didn't take the bait.

"I do," he said, and pulled himself up. His bare back would be visible to Fenris again, he knew, but steeled himself to it. It was, after all, nothing the elf hadn't seen before.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris still feel a strong connection, but things begin to fracture when they return to Kirkwall.

Anders emerged from the tent, into the bright sunlight of dawn, to find Hawke poking the embers of the fire into something usable for breakfast.

Hawke looked up, a smirk breaking over his face as he recognised Anders. "Managed to break free of Fenris's firm, lithe arms, did you?"

Heat rose in Anders' cheeks, but he grinned back. "For now." He couldn't stop himself from glancing back in Fenris's direction. As much as it felt good to be _able_ to part from the man, he hoped Fenris would join them soon.

"Seriously, though," Hawke said, hooking a small cooking pot up over the flames, "Are you OK?"

Anders took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "Yeah," he said. "I wouldn't say I'm entirely back to normal, but... I'm not going to try to jump your bones over breakfast, if that's what you mean." He coughed. "Sorry about that, by the way."

Hawke waved it off and sat down nearby. "Good to know, but that's not what I meant. You and Fenris... it's not what I would call a _natural_ pairing. Are you OK with what happened?"

Anders' blush deepened. "Yes, Hawke, I'm fine with it," he said, voice slightly strained. "We... had a proper talk about it this morning, OK?"

"OK," said Hawke, but his brow was still wrinkled. "It's just... you seemed quite a lot more out of it than-"

"Sweet Maker, Hawke, _stop_ ," Anders said, spreading his hands wide. "No, it's not what I imagined happening when I woke up yesterday morning, but when we realised what was going on we talked about it then, and we talked about it again this morning in the sober light of day, and overall I would say I had quite a good time. So if you're quite done quizzing me...?"

"Yes, sure, fine," Hawke said, avoiding his eyes. "I just wanted to check."

Anders snorted. "Good."

They sat in silence for a little while, and Anders wondered just how much flak they were going to get from their friends about this. A lot. He suspected. It wasn't the sort of thing he could really expect them to _not_ talk about.

The rustle of the tent flap behind him sent a pleasurable shiver down his back, and he turned to see Fenris emerge. His white hair still showed the effects of their sweaty exertions the previous day, sitting flatter to his head than usual, but Anders noticed the elf had taken the time to tame it into some semblance of style.

A self-conscious hand reached up to pat his own matted mess, but there wasn't much he could do for it without a brush and a hair tie.

Then Fenris's large green eyes met his, and something melted inside. _Maker_ , he was gorgeous. And there was a softness to his look that was heart-stopping. Strange to see such openness and affection where he was used to spiky glares.

Anders smiled and raised an arm as Fenris approached, pulling the elf down into his embrace - forgetting Hawke for a moment as Fenris's surprised chuckle seemed to open yet more avenues of secret gentleness and delight.

They kissed briefly, but then Anders pulled back so he could look again at Fenris's face, wondering as the elf leaned into his hand - those large green eyes all for him...

Hawke cleared his throat. "Morning, Fenris."

Fenris pulled back sharply, the softeness in his look closing down as his smile vanished.

"Still not feeling entirely yourself?" Hawke said.

Fenris looked down at his nails. "There are... lingering effects."

"Not necessarily bad ones," Anders said, a little defensively, and was gratified when Fenris met his eyes again with the barest smile.

With a confidence he didn't entirely feel, Anders laid a hand on the inside of Fenris's muscular thighs and squeezed. The smile broadened to a smirk, and Anders grinned.

Hawke groaned. "It's going to be a long trip back to Kirkwall, isn't it?"

"You're mispronouncing ' _fun_ ' again, Hawke," Isabela said, approaching from behind and dumping freshly filled water skins in Hawke's lap. She laughed at his glare and beamed down at the pair of them. "Now that you can string proper sentences together, please do tell me _everything_."

***

Despite Isabela's cajoling, they did manage to keep some details to themselves on the walk back to the city. Much to her amusement, they remained close together, touching one another as much as they could, or at least holding hands.

It felt... good to be in contact with the mage. The press of warm skin against his own. The lingering effects of the enchantment, of course, and yet... there was something he didn't even know he had been without in that touch. Some level of intimacy - of mutual support - that he had never had before. Something he acutely did not wish to lose.

The surprise of Anders' shy smiles - he hadn't known the man could be shy about anything.

The touch of his thumb rubbing the side of Fenris's palm in little swirls, making it feel as though this was more than the need to simply stay in contact. Suggesting that in some sense... the mage _cared_.

Which was silly, but even so, it was not something Fenris wanted to let go of.

He found himself almost wishing that the spell would not end... and being deeply disquieted at that thought. Surely he could not want to be held under the sway of magic like this. And yet the thought of losing Anders to their normal bickering and resentment...

He pushed the thought away.

***

"Well, this is me," Anders said, turning to face Fenris.

The elf was frowning deeply. "No, come back with me to the mansion. We should both get clean, we should..."

Anders shook his head - he could feel Justice pulling at him and knew the spirit was right. He had duties. "I need to get back to the clinic. I wasn't supposed to be away this long."

A flash of hurt in Fenris's eyes, and then suddenly the familiar mask of contempt. "If that's what you want."

Anders swallowed, took Fenris's hand again and used it to pull them together. "No, of course it's not what I want. You know it's still got a power over me, too. But there's nobody else to help these people. I go away on these missions and sometimes people die. I do it because the clinic needs the money, but I _have_ to get back."

"Yes, of course," Fenris said, his voice rich with sarcasm. "If you bathe the world will crumble. I forgot."

Anders let go of his hand. What had he expected? That Fenris would understand? The elf never took the time to understand anything. "Right," he said. "Well. Like I say-"

"Hey, hey..." Isabela stepped towards them, taking them both by the shoulder. "Don't leave it like that - you were doing so well! Fenris, why don't you go down to Anders' clinic and used the water pump there? Plenty of sexy things you can do with a water pump..."

Fenris pulled free of her grip. "No," he said. "The mage is right. This is just a spell. Best to break free of it now."

"What?" Anders felt sickened. "That's not what I said. Hey-" he reached after Fenris, but the elf stepped back again.

Fenris's look was withering. "The power _it_ has over you is already fading. Obviously. Go back to your clinic and the people who _need_ you. I will go wash the taint of magical control from my skin. It will be good to get clean."

Anders stared open-mouthed as Fenris turned and walked away. "I didn't..." he trailed off. He wasn't entirely sure _what_ had just happened.

"Go after him," Hawke said. "He can be prickly, but-"

"He can be a bloody arse," Anders said. "Whatever he thinks, I'm not making it up. People need me, I can't just..." Why was this upsetting him so much? Fenris was probably right. It probably was just a spell, but... Justice tugged at him. The elf was being unfair and there was nothing he could do about it, but he could make a real difference to the people of Darktown. People who didn't see magic as a _taint_. "He knows where I am," Anders said at last, turning away into the sewers below.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris storms off and Hawke just can't stop himself from interfering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fenris thinks some pretty harsh things. He's upset.

Fenris felt filthy. Disgusting. Infused by magic that tugged at him and tried to force him to go back and be bound to the mage.

The abomination.

The perspective revealed by Anders' own disregard was like a dash of cold water that had awakened him. He had lost himself entirely in the thrall of this magic, and he would be free.

On long legs he moved swiftly through Lowtown to Hightown and his mansion, unwilling to be caught up by some well-meaning idiot who completely failed to understand the situation.

 _Hawke_. _Isabela_. Playing match-makers without even slightly understanding what was at stake. What it was to be belong to someone else.

He could feel the touch of Isabela's hand on his arm trying to persuade him to stay and it made his skin crawl. His fist clenched with the urge to punch in her smug face and dash out her stupid innuendos.

No. Best he was far away from anyone else right now.

How could he have been so stupid?

***

Hawke had watched Anders go and felt like a lead weight.

It was as though just crossing inside Kirkwall's gates had soured everything. One moment his two friends were... happy. Laughing with each other - forming something that might not be love, once the spell wore off, but could be friendship. And then, just like that - gone.

Anders was dour and committed to his work above all else. Fenris was furious and cursing magic as the root of all evil.

"What happened?" he asked Isabela, not really expecting an answer.

She sighed and leant back against the alley wall. "The inevitable, sweet thing," she said. "Or did you think Anders and Fenris were going to settle down together and adopt cute babies?"

"Well, no, but..." he frowned. He had to do something about this. "But that was ridiculous. Turning down a bath when you're needed elsewhere shouldn't be the end of the world." He pushed off the wall. "I'm going to talk to him."

"Hawke - no," Isabela called as he strode past her. "I don't think it's that..." he heard her take a few steps after him and then stop. "Fine, whatever. I'm out. Don't blame me if Broody sticks you with his fist."

"I won't!" he called behind him.

"I don't mean it in a sexy way, Hawke!"

He waved his hand over his shoulder and pressed on.

***

Fenris had begun stripping his armour as soon as he entered the dilapidated mansion where he made his home, intent on going straight to the spring-heated bath and scouring himself clean, but he found he was too worked up to stay while the bath filled.

He paced up and down in the main hall before the fireplace, his mind replaying unwelcome images of the mage plowing into him. Of him begging for the idiot's cock like a good little slave saying everything his master wanted to hear. Of the stupid piece of shit pushing the hair back from his face with stupid doe eyes, pretending as though he cared.

He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror above the hearth - greasy hair plastered to his skin, his eyes dark and scowling - and he remembered Anders telling he was beautiful, too beautiful to put into words. Had he really believed that?

Disgust welled in him again and he lashed out at the mirror - brands flaring as he welcomed the pain. Shards shattered around him as he splintered the wood behind and his knuckles punched through to stone.

A sobering shock that left him gasping - unable to think for a moment as his joints screamed out and hot gashes dripped blood down his arm.

"I would have left the gauntlets on for that." Hawke's voice behind him.

Clutching his throbbing hand to his chest, Fenris turned and glared. " _I did not ask you,_ " he spat.

"Maybe you should have?" Hawke replied. He stayed well back, his hands in the air, clearly aware he was on dangerous ground, but not retreating.

"Get. Out."

"I just mean to say that if you feel that strongly about it, maybe it was a little premature to send Anders packing...?"

How had he ever found Hawke's blithe, oblivious confidence endearing? " _Leave_."

Hawke folded his arms. "No. Quite apart from the fact that you really need to have someone look at that," he looked pointedly at Fenris's injured hand, "I think you're being an idiot."

 _An idiot. Him._ Fenris gritted his teeth and opened his injured hand. It was hurt, but not broken. He could fight with it if he needed to.

He strode towards Hawke, and whatever the other man saw in his face made him retreat until his back was against the far wall. "You think I'm a fool because I will not roll over an bend myself to another mage's will. You think I'm a fool for casting off a malicious spell and refusing to be that abomination's _plaything_. I don't know why I'm surprised. I respected you, Hawke, but you are still a mage. You will never see the abuses those around you practice, you-"

Hawke caught him off guard and pushed him away. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" he said, shaking Fenris by the shoulders. "You were _protecting_ him yesterday. You _know_ none of this was Anders' fault. He had it much worse than you." Hawke frowned. "Or is there something you're not telling me? But you were fine. The whole way to Kirkwall you were fine." Hawke's expression seemed torn between concern and frustration.

"I..."

He did know that. The mage had been completely undone by the power in his tattoos - something that Fenris had allowed, knowing how it would be. And Anders...

 _If he used you like_ _that_ , the mage had said, _and I've been doing the same thing, and you felt like you couldn't say no... just tell me._

But he hadn't felt like that. He'd wanted it.

_I meant it. I wanted to fuck you... it made me feel powerful to watch you come undone._

He shook his head to clear it. None of that mattered. "That's not the point," he said, rubbing at his face to stop tears that threatened to spill from his eyes unbidden. "He didn't mean _any_ of it. He _lied_ \- just to have me twisted about his finger."

He could see Hawke didn't understand. "By... letting you do your own thing while he went off to look after his clinic?"

" _Yes_ ," Fenris spat. "Because he can resist the spell - and that's all it was!"

Something like understanding dawned on Hawke's face. He sighed. "Is that what you heard?" Hawke said. "Because I heard a man who didn't want to leave you - maybe hoped he'd see you later - but had to be somewhere else for a little while. And you turned around and made out like you never wanted to see him again."

The tears spilled over and he closed his eyes to look away. Was that what he'd done? No. "It was _just_ the spell. I don't expect you to understand," Fenris said through a tight throat.

"No," Hawke said, quietly. "Maybe not. But Anders might. Talk to him - when you've calmed down, maybe."

Fenris said nothing. Didn't trust himself to speak.

"Will you let me look at your hand?" he asked.

Fenris shook his head. "It's fine," he said shortly, still not looking at the other man.

Hawke sighed. "I hope so. The Circle controls who can see their healers rather carefully. I'd tell you to visit the free clinic in Darktown, but..."

Fenris glared at him.

A tentative smile died on Hawke's face. "Well, I'll leave some bandages here if you need them," he said, and at last Hawke left.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris talk.

Anders hesitated outside Fenris's door. He wanted so badly to be on the other side. To be pushing his fingers through fine white hair and burying his face in the smooth skin of the elf's neck. A memory of scent: lyrium and something else that was earthy and sharp and uniquely _Fenris_.

Fenris. A man who still hated him, it seemed, after everything.

Although what was 'everything'? A few sweaty hours under the compulsion of ancient runes, distorted by the centuries. Not enough for Fenris to set aside his hatred of mages. His disgust of magic. Of everything that Anders was.

_Tainted._

Anders _was_ tainted. By darkspawn blood, not by magic. And did he even _want_ to be touched by someone who found him so repugnant?

The enchantment tugged at him. Much reduced by time and distance, but still present, as it had been the whole afternoon as he worked to catch up on all the little important things the inhabitants of Darktown needed from him.

He knocked on the door.

Nothing.

Hawke, he knew, would have walked straight in. But he wasn't Hawke.

Anders knocked again. "Fenris, please. Can we at least talk?"

He thought there would be nothing again. Leant into the wall next to the door and questioned again what he was doing. Whether it was worth it.

But then movement - steps on the other side, and the door swung open just as he moved in front of it again.

Fenris looked terrible. It was obvious he hadn't bathed as he'd said he would. And a clumsily wrapped bandage circled one wrist and hand, stained pink and brown with blood.

"What happened?" he asked.

Fenris looked at him dead-eyed. "Does it matter?" he asked, then turned away.

Anders supposed that if Fenris had opened the door, he was meant to follow.

The hall was dark. The fire had been lit, but no candles, and all around it was scattered with glass. Anders marvelled as Fenris picked his bare feet safely across it without even seeming to notice.

"I thought you were going to bathe," he said.

The elf shrugged and sat down on a long bench that lined one wall. "I was. I got distracted. I flooded the bathroom. I didn't want to clean it up," he said, looking at the fire and not at Anders.

"So, after all that, you didn't even..." Anders trailed off under Fenris's glare.

"Why are you here?" Fenris said. "Surely you have more important places to be."

"No," Anders said. "Not right now." He sat down next to Fenris, close, but not touching. He struggled to find what to say. Too many confusing, conflicting thoughts flitted around his head. At last he sighed. "What happened?" he asked. "Why did you just leave like that?"

Fenris raised his eyebrows. "I'm not the one who wanted to leave."

A flash of frustration. "Is that it, then? You're the centre of my world, or you hate me? I have to forget all my obligations because you want a bath - and apparently if left to yourself you flood the place!"

"I was distracted!" Fenris snapped.

"What, by this?" Anders reached for his wounded arm. "What is this?"

Fenris snatched it back.

"None of your business!" he said, clutching his arm to himself like a child protecting a favoured toy.

"Oh, right, good," Anders said. "Because none of this is my business now, is that it? Four sweaty hours in a sex dungeon and it's 'thanks, goodbye - hope we never have to speak again!'"

The elf glared at him. " _You_ are the one who said it was just a spell. _You_ are the one who left."

Anders stared at him. "No I didn't! I had to go look after my bloody clinic. I wasn't _lying_. Whatever you think of me and what I do, there _are_ people who depend on me."

Fenris was shaking his head. "You said. You said you felt the pull of the spell, and that was it. And if that's all you want from me you can keep well enough away."

"I didn't say that was it," Anders protested, weakly. What was Fenris saying? Did he want something more after all?

Green eyes bored into him, looking black in the fire light. "You certainly didn't mention anything else."

Anders took a couple of steadying breaths, trying to sort out his thoughts, to remember what exactly each of them had said. "I didn't say there _wasn't_ anything else," he said at last. "But I... the things you say about me. About mages. You can't expect me to launch into - what? Romantic poetry? Just like that? If I didn't say... everything, right then and there, in front of Hawke and Isabela..." He looked down at his hands. "Do you want something more?" he asked. Surprised to feel his heart beating harder in his chest.

Fenris was silent some moments. "Do you?" he said at last.

Anders raised his hands in exasperation. "Why does it have to be me? You've not... you're hardly been _kind_ or _encouraging_ since we got back to Kirkwall. Or, indeed, _ever_ , with the exception of a few hours under the influence of runes. And you've made it _very_ clear how you felt about that."

"I..." Fenris looked away into the fire again. "It is not easy for me. You want me... you want me to let you have power over me."

Anders blinked. "No I _don't_."

Fenris turned sceptical eyes upon him. "Please."

"I'm not trying to enchant you," Anders protested. "The enchantment is almost gone. This isn't about that-"

Fenris interrupted him. "There is more than one way to have power over another. Love..." he cleared his throat. "Love is a different kind of magic."

Anders felt a flush race across his cheeks that he was glad Fenris would not be able to see. "Hang on a second - nobody said anything about love."

Fenris straightened, his expression now unreadable. "No, no one did. That was rather my point."

Anders groaned. This was like picking one's way through the broken glass on the floor, and he was not as good at it as Fenris. "No, I just mean... 'love' is a big word. Love doesn't happen in a few hours of hot and sweaty sex. It's not all or nothing. It grows, it... it starts somewhere. Things like _trust_ and _friendship_ have to be there first. It can't happen if you're still ready to tell me you hate me, you're disgusted with me, that I make you feel _tainted_ the second I do something you didn't want me to do." He searched Fenris's eyes, trying to see if he was getting through.

"Do I disgust you?" he asked. "Does the magic in me make you feel tainted? Does Justice?" Fenris looked away, but Anders pressed on. "Because... because maybe I might like to see if there could be something else here. Maybe I'd like to spend time with you. _Bathe_ with you. But I can't do that if... if what _I am_ really repulses you. If you really think I'd be better off in a Circle, where they would have made me Tranquil by now, if they hadn't outright killed me. You can't..." his voice broke a little. "You _can't_ start talking about love, or anything like it, if that's what you think of me. And if that's what it is... Don't _blame_ me if you're angry that you're attracted to something you hate. That's not my fault. That's on you. And I'm not going to help you work through it."

Fenris was silent again. Looking at his hands. Fingers trembling slightly as he rubbed them together.

"You know what's been done to me," he said at last. "Some of it at least. It isn't... an easy thing. To set that aside." He met Anders' eyes. "That is something _you_ cannot ask of _me_. Magic makes my skin crawl," he admitted. "I know what it can do, and it is terrible."

"Not all of it," Anders said, over his sinking heart.

"I know that, too," Fenris admitted, quietly. "I have seen you do good things. Hawke too. But I've told you how it feels on my brands. And you know how it has been used on me. Don't... don't ask me not to fear it. Not just like that. I don't hate you," he said, meeting Anders' eyes, showing the anguish there. "But it would take time. To be at ease. Maybe I'd never be at ease. I can't promise that." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm not repulsed by you, Anders. But you do scare me sometimes."

Anders laughed. "Yes, well, you scare me, too. I was half afraid you'd put your hand in my chest the whole time I was walking up here."

"But you came anyway," Fenris said.

"I did."

Fenris reached over and tentatively took his hand.

Intense relief. Partly the remains of the enchantment, which had nagged at him all afternoon that it was wrong for them to be apart. But also something else.

"Let me work through it," Fenris said. "Please. It will take time, but... I don't hate you. It's something else. Do you understand?"

Anders nodded. Something like never wanting to be along in the dark. And yet... "What about Justice?" he asked. "He is a part of me, you know. In many ways the best part."

"I don't believe that," Fenris said, looking earnestly at him.

"We don't come apart. Not anymore. He's not... he's not generally interested in sex, if that bothers you, but... I'm not the man I was before I joined with him. If you hate _him_ , you also hate _me_ , and I can't be with someone who feels that way." He held the elf's eyes for a long while.

At last, Fenris nodded. "If you say he is a part of you, I must believe you," Fenris said. "That, too, will take time. But I... I can try to understand. If you let me."

"You can't call me an abomination," Anders said.

"Alright."

Anders let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Alright," he said. "Let's try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the last chapter - I want them to have some comfort and closure and sexy times - but we're getting there. I think there's only one more in me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They do the sex. The silly boys talk and do the sex.

Anders gently unwrapped the bloodied bandage around Fenris's hand. The elf twitched as it caught on half-dried blood and Anders snorted.

"Hawke could have healed this for you, you know."

"I know." Fenris glared.

"What were you doing?" he asked again.

Fenris sighed and rested his chin on his free hand. "You said I was beautiful," he said at last. "That you couldn't even put into words how beautiful I was," he gave Anders a sidelong glance. "I did not look particularly beautiful in the mirror."

"So you hit it," Anders said.

Fenris shrugged.

Anders opened out Fenris's fingers and checked them for breaks or strains. There was a luxury in examining them so closely. Even scuffed and bloody, the fingers were long and slender, the pale lines of lyrium an accent. When he was satisfied there was no serious damage, he ran a finger along one line - the echo of lyrium thrumming in response to the magic in him - then he raised the palm to his lips and kissed it.

Fenris snorted and pulled it away. "Mage."

He smiled and took the hand back. Fenris did not resist.

"You said you would heal it," the elf reminded him.

"I will, I just wanted to... check it over first. Are you ready?"

Fenris nodded, and Anders let soothing healing magic flow out of him. Slow and smooth, trying to keep if back from the lines of raw lyrium to lessen the discomfort.

"There," he said, closing Fenris's hand between his palms and looking up into his eyes.

Dark eyes held his for a long moment, and something seemed to hang in the air between them.

"I still look terrible," Fenris said at last. He looked away. "I should have bathed."

"No." Anders ran tentative fingers along the line of his chin, not pulling him back, but drawing his gaze anyway. "Still beautiful. Damn you."

Fenris laughed, coughed, and looked away, but he was smiling now.

"Come on," Anders said, standing and pulling on the hand still in his possession. "Let's sort out your bathroom."

"What?"

"Your bathroom," he said. "You flooded it. So you didn't bathe. And then you punched a mirror and sat alone in the dark. So let's clean it up and try again."

Fenris laughed again. It was such a rare sound - unexpectedly light - Anders grinned to hear it. "It didn't happen in quite that order."

"Mmm, don't care, come along," he said, setting off towards the stairs and pulling Fenris with him. "Which way is it? Up here?"

Fenris pulled back. "Yes, but we will need a mop."

"OK," Anders said, changing direction with barely a pause, pulling Fenris after him. "Where do you keep that? Down here?"

"I don't know," said Fenris. "Maybe. Maybe I don't have one."

"You don't have a mop?" Anders turned, but kept walking backwards through the door.

"I don't know," Fenris said.

"Well, let's find out, then." He turned back and kept walking on into the dark.

Fenris laughed again. "Mage, you're being ridiculous. You can't even see anything."

Fenris pulled back on his arm, making them collide together.

"Oh," he said, enjoying the hot press of Fenris's body against him in the darkness. He leant his head forward until his cheek rested against the elf's cheek. "What a shame," he breathed into his ear.

Fenris shifted against him, and then warm lips pressed against his, and he pressed back. A hand reached up into his hair, making him gasp, and a tongue chased the air into his mouth. He pressed lips down about it and then reached back with his own, delighting to hear Fenris's deep moan in response.

Laughter bubbled in his chest and he broke the kiss - Fenris's hand still in his hair, the lines of lyrium sending tingles of power across his scalp. "Mirror doesn't matter so much in the dark, does it?"

The hand that still held his squeezed down.

"You are a fool," Fenris said, with warmth.

"I've heard _that_ before."

Anders bent forward and pressed his lips against Fenris's cheek before pulling back again. "Do you want to look for a mop?" he asked. "Or shall we do it right here in the darkness?"

The hand in his hair slid down to rest on his neck as Fenris considered. "I did so want to bathe with you," he said at last. "But I really don't think I have a mop."

"That's OK," Anders said. "Do you have any sheets or old clothes you won't miss? This place must be lousy with them."

"I... suppose."

"Then lead the way," Anders said. "We can use old cloths to mop up the water. Unless you want me to keep stumbling around in the dark."

"Alright," Fenris said, giving him one brief kiss on the lips. "Alright." And then he was pulling Anders back into the main hall, where he took a candle and led the way upstairs.

There was no real need for them to keep holding hands, but Anders didn't want to let go. He'd hated every moment they had been apart - both because the spell had pulled at him and because the elf drove him to distraction. And the ridiculousness of being dragged about the dilapidated mansion in the dark appealed to him.

When Fenris finally found some spare sheets, he had to let go, passing some to Anders and grabbing some for himself, then he led the way into the bathroom.

At first, there wasn't much to see, so Anders waited in the doorway whilst Fenris lit the sconces around the walls.

It wasn't as poorly kept as the rest of the house, and the water on the floor wasn't nearly as bad as Anders had thought from Fenris's description. It didn't take long for their armfuls of cloth to soak up what remained while the now-cold water of the bath drained.

When they were done, Anders pushed the damp sheets to one side while Fenris set the hot water to cascade into the large tub set into the floor again.

Then, Fenris began to undress.

His tunic landed in a heap next to the sheets, and Anders admired his tightly muscled torso as the elf smirked, tugging efficiently on the laces of his leggings.

"Are you just going to watch?" Fenris asked, the rich timbre of his voice doing terrible things to Anders' insides.

"Definitely not," Anders said, tugging at his buckles, not sure if he was pleased or frustrated that he had so much more to remove than Fenris, who seemed to be gloriously naked in no time at all.

The elf strode over, none of his previous anxiety about his appearance present now as he enjoyed Anders' slack-jawed gaze.

"Here," he said, reaching under Anders' stained grey shirt to pull on the ties of his trousers and Anders shucked himself out of his coat.

Unable to bear the proximity with no response, Anders buried his face in the hard and wiry muscle of Fenris's next. Teeth grazed the skin, and he heard Fenris gasp, before a final tug on Anders' trousers released them and the elf pushed them down, long fingers running over his buttocks - squeezing them.

"Everything, mage," Fenris breathed into his ear, and Anders allowed him to pull the tunic up and over his head. Then Fenris pulled them together once more. His hard muscle against Anders' frame. His hardening dick against Anders' own.

"Oh Maker," he murmured against hot skin.

"The bath," Fenris said, pulling him forward. "I don't want to flood the place again." He laughed, and Anders could have melted from that alone.

Instead, he let himself be led into the warm and comforting water, gasping as it reached his sensitive cock, watching as Fenris sank deeply into it until his sweat-greased hair floated free beneath the water, and he rose again, glistening in the candlelight, fine white strands plastered about his face.

The elf turned a leaver and the water stopped.

"Come here." Fenris retreated to sit on a ledge at the side of the bathing pool.

Anders obeyed, but when he reached for Fenris, the elf took his shoulders and easily turned him until he sat between Fenris's legs, achingly aware of the hard length pressed against his back. In the heat of the moment, he didn't even spare a thought for the marks there.

Hot breath against his ear. "I want to fuck you."

Anders laughed. "OK."

Teeth nipped at his earlobe and he groaned.

"Here and now," Fenris whispered.

"Yes, good."

A hand squeezed the round flesh of his arse again, and then fingers reached in to play at his hole. A shiver ran through him - he ached to have Fenris inside, but... "Wait," he said.

The hand pulled back, and Fenris went very still behind him.

Twisting to look at him, Anders smiled. "It's OK, just... water isn't a lubricant. Do you have any oils?"

Fenris groaned. "Mage..."

"I know, I know..." He twisted further and pulled him into a kiss.

Fenris moaned against him.

He pulled back. "Well, do you?"

The elf rolled his eyes, then heaved himself out of the water, unseating Anders. "Yes, mage, I have oils."

He walked to a shelf in the corner where several bottles sat, his body gleaming, droplets running down his skin and across the hard planes of his back, the roundness of his arse.

Anders leant his chin on his hands, resting on the side of the tub, drinking in the image until Fenris turned round and saw him.

Anders grinned.

"You're ridiculous," Fenris said.

"You're gorgeous," Anders countered, delighting in the slightly pleased look of frustration that passed over Fenris's face.

He came and sat down on the edge of the pool, placing the bottles in front of Anders' face. "Are any of these any good?"

Anders looked over the labels - embrium, crystal grace... one he definitely did not want near either of their genitals, and... "Essence of orichalcum? This will do..." He smiled up at Fenris, then ran a hand down his long, lean side, passing down onto his firm thighs... and gazing at his erect prick.

Unstoppering the bottle, he poured a generous helping onto his fingers, then rubbed it liberally along Fenris's cock.

Fenris gasped - moaned as Anders began to move rhythmically up and down, squirmed as fingers traced the path of the lines of lyrium engraved there.

"Mage," he said softly, "What about you? I want to be in you. Not in your hand."

Anders knelt on the ledge and kissed him, Fenris hardly moving, lost in the motion of his hand, breathing in gasps.

Then he took the elf's hand and dribbled oil on his fingers, before pulling them behind him and helping Fenris find his entrance.

Fenris groaned, but his well-oiled fingers pressed readily in. Reaching inside, parting him, stroking him. And Anders leant forward against him, grasping his shoulders with both hands, neglecting Fenris just to stay upright.

"Good, good," he breathed. "Mmmm..."

Then Fenris's fingers withdrew and he was sliding into the water beside him, pulling him over, and then down. Not too fast - lining them up - but it could never have been fast enough. The elf sliding home felt smooth and right and he cried out, arching back against Fenris - a lover he had never expected to have - filling him up, finding his inner spaces.

"Is it good?" Fenris asked. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, yes..." he breathed. "Please - please - move. Move inside me. I need to feel you, I need..."

Fenris pulled Anders back against him and held him close. Their bodies pressed together in a way that felt so right. And then his hips began to move. Stroking evenly. Pulling almost out, then rocking back in, but always with his arms wrapped around Anders.

The movement inside him was so perfect - in many ways better than even the heightened connection they had felt before, when they were trapped in the dwarevn ruin and couldn't escape.

He cried out in as Fenris hit the sweet spot inside, feeling as though every point of him had come together in that place, if just for a moment.

"Good?"

"Yes. Keep going."

And he did, building a rhythm, finding a pace that worked for both of them, grazing that place inside. And the lyrium, rubbing within him, making him feel... connected. To everything, really, but especially to Fenris.

He felt Justice stir within him, but pushed him back. This wasn't something for the spirit. Not this moment. Maybe some day, when it was something Fenris could accept, but for now...now he just wanted to be together. Connected. The two of them.

Fenris's pace began to quicken, his hands running up and down Anders' body - across his nipples, down for quick, teasing pumps to his cock. A hand fondling the sensitive skin of his balls as another reached up into his hair. Anders could barely follow the sensations and Fenris took him in - all of him - and penetrated him. Teeth brushed him shoulder, and then Fenris was pulling back on him, holding them together, his hips stuttering against the flesh of Anders' arse under the water, and finally he came, crying out, and Anders came too, revelling in the stuttering motions of Fenris's hips on his.

Fenris held him close in the moments following orgasm, both of them panting.

A flutter of lips on his shoulder.

"I want this," Fenris whispered. "I want you. Don't let me run away like that again."

"I won't," Anders whispered, hoping it was a promise he could keep. Hoping this was something he could have. For himself. After so many years alone.

Fenris pulled free and turned Anders around in his arms. "And don't you run away either," he said.

Anders looked down. "Fenris..."

Fingers under his chin, making him look up.

Swallowing, he went on. "I don't know what the future holds," he said, honestly. "This fight - for mages - it's important. And it's dangerous. And it's not going away. I don't know... I don't know where it'll take me."

Green eyes held his. "Then promise me you'll try," he said.

So hard to look away from those eyes. He felt a smile creep over his face in spite of himself.

"Alright," he said. "I'll try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh - oh my goodness! It's done! I actually finished it! \o/
> 
> I hope it's a happy enough ending. I can't promise no sorrows or no Chantry Boom - it's too important to Anders. But he'll try. They'll try.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for staying with this. I really hope you've enjoyed my silly smutty fic.


End file.
